


Full Circle

by Tsqtpi



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Drowning, Joe and Nicky, Kidnapped, Little bit of suicidal ideation (not much, Paralysis, just be aware), sad Booker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:54:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25990153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsqtpi/pseuds/Tsqtpi
Summary: Quynh is back with a vengeance (literally) and peaceful times are not so peaceful anymore.It’s my first fic - be kind :)
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia & Quynh | Noriko, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 21
Kudos: 103





	1. Taken

7 months on...

Mild day was giving way to mild twilight as Joe traversed the precisely paved streets of the small town’s back alleys. He hurried as he as he new that once the sun was gone, the small remaining heat would dissipate. The idea of a warm apartment and a warm dinner (as provided by Herr Tong’s Restaurant), quickened his pace even further. 

Reaching the door of the apartment building lobby, Joe removed his hands from his pockets and pulled the door open wide. The waft of heat that sped passed him left Joe internally singing songs of praise for modern heating (850 years of campfires and frostbite left much to be desired). Nicky had chosen this particular building 40 years previously, he liked the view and Joe couldn’t have agreed more. To anyone else, the view of an empty agricultural field from a decaying old apartment complex was not much. But by daylight the view was wasted, it was by night that the lack of light pollution meant that stars of infinite galaxies returned to the world. Those stars, so seldom seen now reminded them both of simpler times, when the world was easier. Joe imagined that Nicky would be setting up now on the small balcony, fluffed up jacket rugged around his shoulders and thick gloves on his fingers. He must be getting hungry, for all the modern advancements this society had achieved, the ability to keep to an estimated food pick up time was rarely one. Joe climbed the stairs speedily, two at a time and keyed open the locked door. 

Immediately something was not right. Joe had only microseconds to comprehend this before an intense jolt of pain on the back of his neck sent him sprawling to the floor, food rolling down the hallway. The floor was cold, not the warmth one would expect from a loved home. The room was dark, definitely not how he left it. Joe’s headache quickly subsided and he attempted an agile role to the side to return to his feet. To his feet yes, but stable no. Joe felt shards of tingling sensations sweep his body, preceded by a sharp bee sting just under his jawline. If it weren’t for the rough hands that gripped his arms, he would have quickly lost his footing again. 

Numbness overwhelmed Joe and he felt himself unable to even lift a finger in protest as those rough hands dragged him to the nearby armchair and threw him like a log into it. The affects of a paralytic he assumed, this was not good. 

Someone from the corner of Joe’s eye turned the light on again. If Joe was worried before, that was nothing now. The room was a war zone. It seemed that Joe was seated in the last standing piece of furniture in the apartment. That was not the concern though. What made Joe tremble most, what sent waves of nausea and dread through his body was the blood. Joe had seen blood before, of course, more than anyone on earth save one woman. But this was context. Nicky. Joe moaned as this was all his body could do. He wanted to scream for him, to call to the very heavens, but all he could manage was a low rumbling release of air. 

As if listening to Joe’s own thoughts of chaos, he felt or rather herd soft lips lower to his ear. “You needn’t worry, Yusuf”...that voice... something familiar yet changed, a distortion of what he once knew. 

“Nicolo, is mostly fine. Sure he’s a little less whole at the moment, but that is nothing that time cannot fix.” Joe moaned again, fragments of an old puzzle pieced slowly together in his mind as the voice strummed at his memory. 

Quynh. She moved slowly around the chair to face Joe, lowering herself to kneel at eye level. Joe then felt pain. It was not physical, but the weight on 500 years of guilt. Joe dreamt of this women, Nicky dreamt of her. It was a constant sorrow that crept up on them in sedentary times. Yes, they had all tried to look for her, they spent decades almost drowning themselves in the process. But lead after lead, led to dead end after dead end and in time the pain of endless searching gave way to the pains of guilty remembrance. They had all prayed she was dead, and had even somewhat convinced themselves this was a truth not a hope. The thought that she was there, minute after minute eternally suffocating, was simply too much. They may have been immortal, but they were always human.

“I wonder who that tear is for” she said almost to herself as she ran a finger down Joe’s wet cheek. Quynh leaned back and pushed to her feet, grabbing what looked like Joe’s scimitar and using it as a walking stick. Joe could not move his head, but he could see and hear her light steps as she paced the circumference of the room. 

“Shame about the room, it looked cosy. Though I didn’t see that much before the assault team moved in. I’m afraid it caught Nicolo a little of guard”. 

She motioned and what Joe dreaded most came to fruition. A large man hefted Nicky’s limp body to about a metre from Joe’s feet. Nicky’s face remained untouched save for the blood splatter, but the rest was carnage. Chunks of organs and bone matter trailed out of the gaping chasm that was his beloved’s torso. His his legs were crushed and hands missing. Joe’s moans became louder and longer as he willed every fibre of his being to come alive, but nothing moved. 

“Of course my team tend to take their jobs a little too much to heart”.

“Yusuf I wanted you to see him, just as Andromache saw me torn away from her”. Joe’s heart broke, for what had happened to his Nicolo and what he suddenly realised was going become much worse. Every muscle ached with the pressure of enforced inaction, his breaths becoming ragged and heavy with effort.

Quynh continued, “Almost 500 years Yusuf, that is a heavy price to pay. I have paid it, and more. I am gone Yusuf. My body stands before you, but Nicolo, Andromache and you left my soul on the bottom of the ocean. I still sink there, dying alone for eternity. Nicolo will hope you search for him, he will cry it out in a world with no sound. But you will not. I have known you Yusuf and you will not. You do not find, you leave, you abandon, just as she does and did.” 

Quynh motioned again, this time to the door. Nicolo, was dragged away, his empty eyes locked on motionless on the ceiling. Quynh herself left without a word and the room was left in darkness again. 

Joe struggled against himself. He had never fought so hard in his life. He cried, gasped for air, screamed, but with no voice to be heard. Joe sat there still but on fire for hours. His mind was in anarchy as his soul fought to be heard by an uncaring body. 

Time passed, he wasn’t sure how much, but just as light began peering through blood spattered curtains, Joe regained use of his left little finger. He used this small victory to begin spurring on the rest of his body and soon had control over his remaining digits. By the time that a ray of sunlight made it to the foot of Joe’s chair, he could move his entire right arm. Joe used this moment to clumsily reach inside his jacket pocket, fingers still numb but usable. He pulled out his phone, and with little finesse scrolled through to Nile’s number (Andy was between burner phones). 

The dial tone rang an excruciating number of times before the jovial answer of “Hey Joe! What’s up?”. 

Joe’s voice was hoarse and required more effort than he expected to push through the phone, but he managed “Get Andy now and come. Quynh has Nicky.”


	2. Frozen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andy is immovable, Nicky is pieced together only to be pulled apart, Joe is desperate and Nile is the only one functioning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the lovely people leaving very nice comments, it is very encouraging!

Ten minutes later Joe had pulled himself to his feet and shuffled his way to the bathroom. He turned the shower’s knob as cold as possible and plunged his head under it. The sensation awakened him and he felt the icy water trail down his back; a promising sign. He heard a door creak open and quickly grabbed a towel to his face and stumbled back into what was his and Nicky’s living room. Standing shocked in the doorway were Nile and Andy. 

“What happened...?” Nile started slowly. 

Joe started towards them, tripping over his feet as he walked. Nile rushed forward to his side and propped Joe up against her. She offered to move him to a chair, but Joe insisted that he stand. He needed to feel again and fast. Andy did not move. She appeared almost as paralysed as Joe had been hours before. 

“Joe, what happened?” Nile repeated cautiously. 

Joe turned to Andy “I don’t understand it Andy, she was there, it was her”

Andy remained motionless, staring wide-eyed at the carnage in front.

Joe tried again, “I only know what I saw, but I came home, to our home and she had done this” he motioned to the room. Joe looked to the space on the floor where Nicky had lain dead at his feet. “She did this to him...” 

“She wants to punish us Andy.” Desperation in his voice, desperation that she would say something, do something, but still Andy stood there unmoving. 

“We need to do something...” he almost pleaded. With Andy stopped, Joe turned to Nile and reported on the fate Quynh threatened for Nicky, his Nicky. 

Nile wrapped her arms around him then, whispering in his ear “We’ll find him, Joe, we’ll find him.”

~~~

Nicky hurt. At this moment in time all he knew was hurt. Nothing of where he was or who he was with only hurt. Every new and slow heart beat brought waves of pain and nausea. Nicky took a sharp breath in and with it his whole body shuddered and convulsed. This was a bad one, he mused, not knowing his place in space or which way was up. He could feel his insides shift as they slowly and painstakingly knitted themselves back together. Pain gave way to the sensation that he was face down on something hard, cold and metallic. He took another shuddering deep breath and was reassured that at least this time he was not sent into spasms. 

Nicky slowly opened his eyes and confirmed what he knew was the floor of a shaking and rattling van. After a few minutes, Nicky felt solid enough to risk a painful role over onto his side. What he saw left him confused.

“Quynh?!” He roughly managed through badly damaged lungs. 

~~~

When they arrived at their destination Nicky was almost whole again save for a slowly regrowing left little finger. Quynh’s team had cuffed his hands and feet and gagged his mouth while he was still piecing together and too weak to move. All the while Quynh had sat and silently watched Nicky as he gradually regained his life. Nicky was confused to say the least, but so far what he knew was this: Quynh was with him in the van, and Joe was not, Quynh was likely the reason he was there and though her face was the same, through her eyes she seemed an entirely different woman. When the van stopped she spoke slowly for the first time “Funny, all this time and I didn’t know that you have a birthmark just above your navel.” She got up from her seat then, and with grace stepped over Nicky’s slumped form. 

Nicky had long ago decided in situations like these that it best to let enemies believe you are done, their bravado would work in his favour when he sprung up again. A burly man started towards Nicky’s purposefully limp body and began to pull him by the feet out through the van doors. As soon as his feet touched ground Nicky lunged at the man. He easily manoeuvred the bulk of his weight under the man’s centre of gravity, instantly sending him flying to the ground. Nicky followed this with a kick to the face, difficult with chains, but they were loose enough to let him walk and that was all he needed. Nicky could see more men coming quickly in his direction, Quynh simply standing and observing. He knew he had to finish this quick, if he did not get out of there now, there was no easy escape once he made it to Quynh’s final destination. 

Another man approached and Nicky manoeuvred himself again, this time hearing the crack of a bone in the process. This man was followed by another, who was left spurting blood from his mouth on the pavement. More speedily approached, but this time Quynh who at first stood idle, now swiftly moved before Nicky. He tried evading to then attack, but found himself locked with Quynh’s arm around his neck. Nicky kicked back at her, but was met with the thud and agony of a dislocated kneecap, he cried out. Holding him tightly, she whispered in his ear “Hush now Nicolo, that’s not any way to greet you’re new family.” Her grip was so tight now that he was gasping for air and started seeing waves of colour blur into his vision. It was at that point with an almost inaudible snap that Quynh killed him a second time. Nicky’s fading thought was that more death was sure to follow.


	3. Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team begin to search.

Joe sat on the edge of the bed in Nile’s immaculately maintained hotel room, Andy silently sat on the solitary desk chair in the corner of the room. Nile approached Joe with her iPad, he could see her smoothly and calmly swiping between images. “I’ve called Copley, he’s sending over what CCTV he could find in the area. I haven’t been able to locate any identifiable vehicles yet, but Copley might help.” 

“We need to call Booker” it was Andy.

“Oh now you talk?!” Joe started, “Nicolo is gone and you have been silent for the last hour. The first thing you can say is to call the man who betrayed us and had us kidnapped and tortured?!”

“Joe, you know he is the best at this. Nile and Copley will try, but he has 200 years of experience over them.” Andy’s demeanour had changed, she now sat staring at Joe looking at him with pleading eyes. “If you want to find Nicky and we all do, shouldn’t we have everyone in on this?”

Joe stopped, willing himself to calm. They had faced horrors before: battlefields decimated by bloodshed, building collapses, the aftermath of atomic bombs... he had always willed himself to calm. Nicky had helped with this of course, but they had helped each other, each supporting the other just to make it through another day, hour, minute or second with rational thought. Stopping himself from spiralling, Joe held the image in his mind, the image of Nicky in his arms, safe. Self-pity would not fix this, it would not save Nicolo. He willed himself, to stop, to detach; emotion would come later, when he was safe. Hold the image.

After a long deep breath he said “Make the call”, voice firm but quiet.

~~~

Booker was not in a good place. Previously he had been willing to abandon those he loved with every inch of his being for the chance of finally ending his torment. Now with no one, with nothing left but never ending immortality, he had become a small speck of himself. Drinking was easy, but after years of building up a tolerance, the pain of his conscience was only amplified. He had instead walked a new path of self-destruction, starving himself, sleep deprivation (mainly to avoid the dreams), and every now and then a stray suicidal bullet. 

He had returned to his family home in Marseille, long ago abandoned by painful memories, but presently the only home he had. The only home left unmarred by his betrayal ...

Today found him curled up in the corner of the bedroom he and his wife had shared, arms wrapped tightly around his knees. To his dismay, Booker realised that he had let himself drift off. The guilt sending waves of heat through his body as he remembered the recurring dream of his family strapped to examination tables, Andy’s eyes staring dead at the ceiling blood pouring from her bullet wound, while Joe’s chest lay ripped open and Nicky screamed to get to him while shackled down. Looking down in his dream Booker had found his hands bloody, holding a gun outstretched and pointed to his brothers and sister, smoke billowing from the barrel. 

Shielding his bleary and reddened eyes against the light streaming in from the curtains, he made to push himself to stand. Today might be a good day for a shower.  
Groggily he stumbled passed the dusty bed, resting his hand lightly on the bed knob. It was then that he heard it, faint and almost inaudible, but there, a ringtone...

Moving faster than he had in months, faster than his legs thought he had any right to, Booker raced to his bag. He could hear it still, like a beacon drawing him in. He found it at the bottom, tangled in a pair of old boxer shorts. Opening the phone, he took a breath, saw the caller ID as unknown and slowly pressed his finger to the green call button. He steadied his voice, unsure of how it would sound after so much quiet. 

“Hello?” he managed roughly. 

Her voice came through the phone “Booker, drop whatever you are doing and get to Ehrenberg. We need you” she paused briefly “Quynh has Nicky.” 

~~~

Joe, he thought blearily. I wonder where Joe is with the food... His thoughts were slow to come and he didn’t feel right. Distantly he thought he must have fallen asleep, he certainly felt tired enough, but as he slowly attempted to adjust his uncomfortable position and open his eyes, he found that his way was blocked. Nicky started to remember as he found his arms squeezed to his side and legs strung together by chains, mouth still gagged as before. What was momentarily a soft, but fond ‘Joe?’ became a startled and frantic search for any sign of his husband in the vicinity. 

Eyes searched hurriedly around the immense room, panic and racing thoughts setting in. There was no Joe, no Yusuf. This was neither comforting nor distressing, but much worse, unknown. What he saw in the absence of Joe however, also gave a good case for dread. The room he was in was white and seemingly endless, but close by he saw a large, clear, rectangular tank, filled with water... Beside the tank stood a single arm chair and ensconced within its cushion was Quynh, staring intently at where Nicky lay chained on the floor. 

Seeing him awaken, Quynh’s pensive stare immediately morphed into an ear to ear grin. Years of experience told Nicky that this was not a grin of laughter, but of hunger, that at any moment she was ready to pounce on him like prey. 

Quynh raised herself from the chair and slowly walked herself to where Nicky was chained prostrate on the ground. She knelt beside him, long hair almost tenderly brushing past his ears. 

With a soft voice she leaned closer and spoke in sweet but oddly sinister undertones “Hello Nicolo. You won’t find him here and I’m afraid he won’t find you as well.” Relief spread through Nicky with a muffled sigh, she didn’t have Joe. 

“How sweet!” she exclaimed, noticing Nicky’s relief, “but misplaced...” she mused further. “I would be a little more concerned for yourself. For while this is going to work wonders for me, what I have planned for you will not be pleasant. Trust me I speak from experience...” at that her voice trailed off, but she continued to stare deeply into Nicky’s eyes. 

Nicky stared back, and what he saw was dead. In their own humane way that is what the Old Guard had wished for Quynh, for her suffering to be over and to finally rest. But this was not that, this was the death of who she was and the twisted birth of something new. What he saw was wild, like a boar running rampant with an arrow in its side. He was sure that after centuries of contemplating Quynh’s fate, the feeling in the pit of his stomach hurt more than anything she had planned for him. 

Quynh made motions to someone standing just out of eyesight. Said person, loudly marched forward, their boots scuffing the concrete floor and grabbed Nicky by the chains around his ankles. The man pulled Nicky roughly on the ground towards the tank, to where a long chain connected to a crane on the ceiling. Nicky raised his head and saw the combat gear clad man attach the chain to his trussed feet. The man motioned to yet another in the distance and Nicky heard mechanics whir into motion, he quickly found himself being tugged off the ground. 

Blood began to rush to Nicky’s head as his feet raised into the air. Quynh again walked slowly towards him, dragging something behind her. 

She came almost affectionately close to Nicky’s ear and whispered “I will give you at least something that was denied me... a connection...”. Nicky then saw what Quynh’s hid behind her back as Joe’s scimitar swung around in her hands and impaled itself through his abdomen. He let out a pained but muffled cry. Quynh kissed Nicky gently on the cheek, motioned again and Nicky felt himself lift further up, his blood wetly trailing toward his head. Her last action was to remove the gag from his mouth and Nicky finally managed “Quynh, wait. You don’t have to do this. Quynh we can help you, let us help...” She ignored his strangled pleas. Nicky was lowered into the tank, the ice cold water at least somewhat taking his mind away from the painful blow of the love of his life’s sword protruding from his gut. 

The crane jolted and released its chain, Nicky sank quickly down into the depths of the water. He was dead in 30 seconds.


	4. Looking

It was 3am, but they all sat huddled together around the small curtesy table in the corner. A faint knocking echoed from the hotel room door. Nile got her feet first, Joe followed closely behind her gun in hand. 

Nile peered through the peep hole and immediately shuffled backwards, she unchained the door and opened it wide. Joe relaxed his hold on the gun but did not immediately discard it, instead after a moment replacing it in the belt notch at the back of his jeans. 

Booker stood there, pale, disheveled and looking like a drowned rat. He stared at the pair hesitantly, clearly unsure of what to say. Though in his mind he had pictured this moment, he had never gotten so far as to planning what to do. He eyed Joe warily, and gave a faint smile. When it was not returned he faced Nile and managed a quiet “Hey kid”. 

Before Nile could reply Joe cut her off with “Fuck Booker, you look like the arse end of a rotten whale carcass...” Joe stopped himself, took an audible deep breath, held the image of a safe Nicky in his mind and followed with “Thank you for coming” before pulling Booker into a strong and enveloping hug. He quickly released when he felt Booker’s knees start to shake and buckle beneath him. Joe pulled back to see Booker’s face stained with grief, unshed tears pooling around his eyes. 

“I...I...” Booker managed before he too forced a deep and audible breath “I’m sorry Joe, I came as quickly as I could. The train was delayed... I...I... want to help however I can” he finished. 

Nile chimed in trying to break the tension “Come in Booker. We don’t have a lot of room, but we do have a lot to get through”. She took hold of his hand and pulled him gently into the small room, Joe standing back to let them pass and then following himself. 

Andy stood up from her seat at the table and pulled Booker gently in close, she whispered softly “Seven months of this was too long, let alone 100 years, but please don’t fuck this up”. When she stood back Booker could see the echo of his own face, tears welling in her eyes. “I won’t I swear it” he gave as an emphatic reply. 

Joe stood beside Booker and motioned to the free chair. Booker sat eyeing Joe himself “You don’t look so great yourself Joe”. Booker was right of course, Joe had not slept since the day before Nicky was taken, had not eaten too. Dark circles rimmed the base of his red eyes and his face had taken on a gaunt, sullen appearance. “I’ll be fine once this is over” Joe simple stated, the will clearly there in every fibre of his being. 

Nile and Andy filled Booker in on most of the details, Joe speaking up to add in bits and pieces. Copley has sent over CCTV from the adjacent streets in the hours after Nicky was taken and they combed every minute, looking for something, anything that could give them a clue. Nile has shown several promising images of vans leaving the area, but non were quite right and tracing their steps always led to legitimate locations.

At around 6am Booker sat bolt upright in his chair and exclaimed “Joe, shit, this is it!” 

Joe rolled over from his position on the bed where he had been trying to draw pictures of the men he had seen take Nicky (eyes desperately trying to focus). Joe came to stand behind Booker and looked over his shoulder. Booker held the tablet out to him where a still image of a darkened street held the screen. Text at the top read - Apotheke Tannenhofweg 19-02-21 19:46:36 Uhr - underneath he could clearly see a large black van driving down the streets. 

Joe prompted “Are you sure?”

“Look closely at the bumper” Booker replied. 

Joe squinted his eyes to look, he saw his first real sign of hope, but also a dagger plunged deep into his soul. There was blood, lots of it, smeared across the bumper standing in stark contrast against the white license plate. It was a plate they had seen in other images, but they had not seen the blood before.

“Follow it Booker, where did it go?” Joe exclaimed urgently.

“I will. Nile call Copley, get his contacts to follow the satellite footage. I don’t think this was a short journey. Anywhere they went, they would have had to wash the blood off first to remain inconspicuous. Get him to check automated car washes in the area, they couldn’t risk stopping for long or getting out of the van and being seen. 

After following dead end after dead end, using the combined efforts of CCTV and satellite tracking, the team were able to follow the van no further than Holzkirch. Narrowing the search to the area was difficult. It was Nile in the end, who suggested that they use the local council’s records of property purchase. This led them to a list of names and hours of searching.

“No... she couldn’t... maybe she forgot...” it was Andy almost talking to herself as she stared wide-eyed at the tablet. 

“What Andy?” Nile asked insistently.

“Joe,” Andy started, “do you remember that time in Florence? It was around the 13th century. I’m fuzzy on the details, but I do remember the girl. You remember? The one Quynh found hiding in the basement of that house... she was covered in filth and blood and her father had put her there... She died that night.”

“I remember, Andy, but what has that got to do with anything?” He said this quizzically, but Nile also heard a shred of hope in his voice, even she new that Andy was not one to go down memory lane without a purpose.” 

“I think Quynh doesn’t know I was awake, or maybe she does, maybe there is purpose in this... I saw her go back that night I saw her come home covered in the man’s blood... she was holding his knife...”

“Joe look at the name on this lease...” 

Joe came to stand behind her, the name Francesco Di Arezzo was highlighted in yellow on the page. The date of purchase was 4 months ago. 

“That’s it...”


	5. Fading

Bleeding out is not pleasant, but it is by no means the worst way to die. After a time the body just goes in shock, starts shutting down and you lose consciousness until you don’t really feel anything at all. If you can make it through until the shock sets in, at least there is no pain anymore. 

Drowning on the other hand, is about the worst way a person (immortal or not) can go. Humans need oxygen above all else and when it is denied, the body sets off every alarm bell it has to get it back. Your lungs feel like fire, like you are burning away from the inside out. Every fibre of your being is telling you “Feel this. Feel this, so you can stay awake and get me air.” The body fights until it cannot and only after you have used every muscle to claw and push and every ounce of strength left to get to where air is but you are not, does it give up and fade to black. 

Nicky was not sure how long he had been in the tank, he had lost count of the deaths, he wasn’t really sure which death instrument had killed him each time he faded out; scimitar or water. 

The ratio in the tank was slowly shifting so that each time Nicky opened his eyes to restart the cycle, the water was a slightly pinker shade. 

The majority of the times Nicky found himself able to look outside of the tank, Quynh was sitting there staring back at him. The first few times he watched her, he could have sworn he saw her wince in pain at the sight of him. After what he thought was hours, but could have been days, he looked out and she was gone, he was alone. All the while he struggled, clawed, gasped and gulped to no avail. Eventually the lights in the complex shut off and he was left alone and in the dark, asphyxiating on his own blood. 

He tried to measure time by the beats of his heart between deaths, but found that each reawakening the beats slowed to a pace that was not worth counting. He turned his thoughts to Joe and tried to hold the image of a night spent under the stars in 1382, laying together in the sands of the Sahara. They had talked about food, their aching feet, Yusuf’s desire to wait for the fire to cool so he could harvest the charcoal so as to capture the image of the sky above them. They had laughed, they had kissed, they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms. Nicky held the image for a few more seconds before he faded away again.

He woke up with the same jolt as usual, stared around and found the world dark. He tried to remember, what was he thinking about before? There was Yusuf... sand, the Sahara he thinks... it was the 1300s or maybe it wasn’t... there was a fire... Nicky died again. This cycle repeated endlessly.

Awake. Sand. Fire. Yusuf...dead

Awake. Yusuf. Sand... 

Awake. Sand...

~~~

The drive was long and tense. Despite the truce between himself and Booker, Joe still can’t bring himself to sit beside him, so instead purposefully sits himself in front as Andy drives. He tried to hold the image of a safe Nicky in his mind, but in the quiet and with each glance he sees Booker in the passenger side mirror, he flashes back to the lab and the utter betrayal of it all. Joe knows that Booker must be thinking the same, a few times he has caught his former friend staring through the the same mirror and then quickly look away, pain in his eyes. 

Andy tried to ease some of the tension by turning the radio of. Nile perks up at this (she can feel it all too), but this is short lived as Andy quickly turns it off again in frustration (she has never been a fan of modern music). With a sigh Nile reaches in her pocket and pulls out earphones, shutting herself off for the remainder of the journey. She knows her job, she is not needed for whatever those three are silently fuming between themselves.

Finally, Booker breaks the silence “Joe, Andy, are we going to talk about this?” his face looks both like he desperately needs to talk, but is hopelessly afraid of what might come. 

Andy shoots a look at Joe, reading the face she knows so well, “Whatever words are going to be said, Booker, Nicky needs to hear them.” 

Joe adds “All I want to know is that I can trust you in this, but I’m not sure that is going to happen. We need you, but know that if you betray us again, there will not be a hole deep enough for me to throw you in. At this morning, you are beyond second chances, at this point all I want from you is to get Nicky back.” 

Nile looks over and sees the tension build in Booker’s muscles. She gives him a sympathetic look, but knowing that this is not her fight, closes her eyes and sinks back into the music. 

“Joe... I...” Booker seems like if he could he would drop to his knees and beg forgiveness, but given the circumstances and heeding Andy’s warning to wait for Nicky, he settles on “You can trust me...” 

“Uh-huh” was Joe’s only reply


	6. Waiting

By the time they made it to Holzkirch, it was snowing outside the car. It was nearly midnight; almost 30 hours since Nicky was taken. Joe had been analysing satellites footage of the target building and alerted Andy as to the best place to hide the car out of sight and continue on foot. 

They stowed the car and began making their way across the two kilometres of snowy terrain, careful to hide their tracks. Coming to a ridge about 500 metres from the compound, they dropped low to the ground. Andy unzipped the case for Nicky’s long range sniper rifle (she was the best shot after Nicky) and used the scope to survey the situation. 

“Four under, two on top” she announced, “How many inside?” She questioned as Nile drew out the heat sensor. 

“Don’t know yet Boss, it’s too long range, but I can see at least one on the entrance” she replied.

“Can you make the shot Boss?” Joe questioned.

“I’m mortal, not incompetent, Joe” she retorted, but Joe could see the excitement in her eyes - she had been off the job too long for her comfort. 

Four successive silenced shots sounded, two of which had taken out two pairs of guards. Six bodies quietly hit the ground. 

“Nice shot Boss” Booker attempted.

“Nicky could have done it with three” Andy replied.

“Given the right weather, probably two” Joe defended further. “Let’s get closer.”

They crouched to the ground as the team manoeuvred forward, not risking being sighted by any unknown guards. 

“Boss!” Booker whispered urgently after about 100 metres progress. 

Andy looked to where Booker pointed and quickly took out a further two guards. 

And so they proceeded, slowly and surely, each team member covering the other as they drew closer to the building. When about 200 metres out, making sure to stay hidden, Nile attempted to use the heat sensor again. 

“I’ve got three in the main entrance, two on the second floor and two in the main building, but one signature is only faint.” Nile reported. The last few words had Joe holding back a cry. 

They made it to the entrance, Booker slipped through the door crouched low. He snuck behind the first guard, quickly disarming and snapping his neck. This cued the remaining team to follow swiftly behind. Nile sprinted up the stairs quickly and silently taking care of the two up top. Joe move down below passed Booker and under the stairs, through to the adjoining entrance hall where he shot the remaining two between the eyes, just as they rose from their chairs to check on the low, muffled thuds coming from the entrance hall. One of them Joe recognised. The entire process took less than one minute without a single word spoken. 

Nile quietly manoeuvred back down the stairs and motioned to the door, Andy entered (they no longer put her on the frontline of assaults - much to her annoyance). Together they walked as a group in the direction Nile’s heat sensor had indicated, Andy covered from front and behind, Joe leading. 

They approached a large double sided door. Joe motioned for the others to line either side. Gun in hand and at the ready, he sighed, held his hand to the doorknob and turned. 

—-

Nicky was tired. He had been tired before, had stayed awake for days, traversed deserts, fought in countless wars, slept chained in dank basements, hell he’d even drowned before... but there was always an end in sight and a warm if uncomfortable bed waiting for him. This pain was unending, he wrestled with himself, fought for distraction, but the torment was constant. Every muscle in his body strained and pulled and he willed himself to ease and calm, but this only came with death. Each time he awoke the struggle began again and he found himself unable to remember why he was fighting or where he was, only that he needed to breath. 

Opening his eyes after a time, he was unsure how long, he could only see red and had only the faintest idea of why. In the distance he could see the outline of something bulky and every now and then he would see a moving shape within it, only for the next time he opened his eyes for the shape to be gone. Given that this was the only concrete thought that his mind would allow (maybe the shape could help him), he fixated on it, tried to move to it, but as always his body could not move. 

Sometime later, Nicky tried his eyes again, the moving shape was gone from its usual place. Strangely though, he managed to marvel between gasps, there were other moving shapes. They circled around him. He died again. The next time he opened his eyes (and he made sure he did this time), one of the shapes had pressed itself against the wall between them. This startled Nicky and if he could he would have jumped back, instead he gulped and quickened the drowning process. 

The next time he awoke there was a thumping in his ear. At this point he was used to hearing the roar of his heartbeat surging through his body, but this was different. The murky red liquid that encased him, was vibrating with a dull but forceful thud. 

Thud... thud... thud... dead again.


End file.
